10-Story Detective Magazine Cover — page 13: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

THE CORPSE AT THE CARNIVAL——~———————_ 1] to find them, and he spotted Lefty Reid finally, standing at one corner of the Dragon Slide tower. Easing up to him, Millard said: “Hello, Weasel. Where’s the Big shot?” Reid had a weasel-face, but he didn’t like to be reminded of it. He turned quickly, a look of deadly hate in his flat button eyes, holding a long nail file like a dagger in his left fist. “How would I know?” he snarled. “You following me?” . “Oh, no,” Millard said, letting go of a harsh chuckle. “I’m just curious as to how soon the rats will start de- serting the sinking ship.” Reid was a thin, white-skinned man, and he’d been filing a thumb- nail with the long wicked-looking nail file. He went back to work with it, but kept his gaze on Millard. “Whadda you mean by that crack?” “You know what I mean.” Millard got out a cigarette, stuck it between his lips. “Eddie Fitz broke loose for only one reason—to come back and get Bonelli. Bonelli sold him out, and Fitz knows it by now. Your boss want- ed to step up to the top and play big shot, so he threw Fitz to the wolves. I’d hate to be in Bonelli’s shoes right now. Where is he?’ “You want him. Find him.” Reid shthered away, like a snake dropping off a dead log. Lighting a cigarette, Millard stayed where he was but followed the other man with his eyes until his moving figure was lost in the shift- ing mob. Reid had been waiting here for a reason and Bonelli shouldn’t be very far away. He sent his gaze quest- ing around. Dummy airplanes whirled round and round in the air at the concession farther down. And next to that was the boat. chute. In a booth across the ‘midway a little counter radio was talking about. Eddie Fitz again. Mill- ard could just catch the name above the noise and hubbub of the crowd. The scream wasn’t part of the broadcast. It knifed out close enough to raise the hair on the back of his neck. Other women began to squeal. Millard whirled and saw the crowd pressing back away from the huge dragon mouth at the foot of the spiral slide. He fought forward to where he could see, and halted abruptly. | Bert Bonelli was sprawled out on his back just inside the fangs of the dragon, the way he’d shot out of the chute. Blood was spilling out of his wet mouth and his skull was caved in. The back of his bullet head was a jelly-like mass of hair and blood and brains. CHAPTER II SISTER OF DOOM NE glance was enough to tell Millard that Bon- elli would give no “4 more trouble to any- one. The police would be up to the pier im a few min- utes. Panic cluiched at Millard, his mind churning with thoughts of May and Eddie Fitz. He swiftly circled the jam about the dragon mouth, knifed his way through to the elevator that took amusement seekers to the top of the Dragon Slide. It was m the center, a closed shaft with the entrance to one side, behind the ticket office and out of sight from the crowd. The door stood open and the car itself was empty, the oper- ator probably out in front gaping at the eorpse. Millard slid the sereen_ shut, jammed the lever over to the “up” position. The ear rose on well-oiled cables, and he got the flat .32 auto- matic from the clip under his arm and out into his hand. At the top he slid back the door. It opened on a small circular areaway, like an observation tower, and the entrance to the slide was directly ahead of him. He stepped out, sending & quick glance from right to left, the Gomichbooks.ecom